Game Thread Chapter VI: Rescue at Schloss Caromarc - RPG Crossing
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Old Jul 28th, 2020, 05:00 PM
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Chapter VI: Rescue at Schloss Caromarc

1 Arodus, 4681
Schloss Caromarc, County Vieland


He held the doll close to him, watching Father from behind the pillar. A comical sight, really: the pillar was nowhere near large enough for him to hide behind.

His hair was flipped on his head in such a way as to block sight on the right side. Father had said it might start growing, using his own beard to explain how growth worked. Then he had used the homunculi, nasty little creatures that the Child had decided he did not like in the slightest. Squeezing the doll closer, the Child found his courage. It was that of a little girl, part of its neck resewn some time ago. Age had taken it, but it was well-cared for, even long after its owner had use for it.

He sometimes wondered about its previous owner, his Brother. Father said that Brother never lived long enough to hold the doll, and gave it to him after a rather fruitless lesson trying to get him to write his letters. Father was not entirely cruel. Just most of the time. But he loved his Child. He knew that. He had to.

The storm had been powerful, and the rain hitting them, the Child wondered if Father needed a covering. He sat there, whispering, weeping for something, as the device above flickered. It was sinister to him. He felt it as he felt himself: part of himself, yet not at all.
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"Father...?"

"WHAT!?" He turned, his strong jaw clenched as if in pain. Father's hair was black, the edges near his ears white, and he was handsome, his eyes normally green and beautiful but now full of rage and fear. Veins on his forehead and around his eyes pulsated, and his hair stood on edge, fighting the rain: for the electricity that still ran through the device above. Another flash of lightning, and he looked skeletal, evil, terrible. The Child hid his face behind the pillar, as if he could not be seen.

"I am... no I am not. Do you know, Child? Do you know why I created you? I want revenge. When your Mother died, the only thing I had left was the County, and they took it from me! Revolutionaries, anarchists who think they are fit to rule: they know nothing of the pressures of ruling! I alone know, only I in all of Vieland can understand. And do you know what? I had not the power to defend what was mine. So I created you. That is all you are. You are not even my child, merely an instrument of my revenge. I will destroy them, for not understanding, for attacking me in my darkest hour! But... you? You, such a mistake as you, are the instrument of my revenge? No, mere thing, you are not worthy. I will not wield you as a weapon. The Bondslave Thrall is a worthwhile invention, one of my greaters, but you could flatten the town. But where is the poetry in that? How could my message be on their lips as you crush their heads to jelly? They would not. You are too simple. You are too... imperfect. The wrong combination of parts. I must try again." He stood, walking to the Child. He reached up, almost impossible despite how tall he was, and brushed the tears from the whimpering brute.

"I will always be your Father. But you are no child. You are not the son I deserve."

"Father, I...."

Father shook his head. "You must be gone from here. From Schloss Caromarc. I have engineers coming from Westcrown on the morrow and you must not be here. I do not care where you go. I do not care if you slink in the Dipplemere, I do not care if you wander from here to Tian Xia and ride on the back of a dragonturtle to those distant shores. Leave Schloss Caromarc. Do not return. You are my greatest failure."

The Child felt in him a rage, growing at the rejection, at the banishment, but also the fear, the sadness, the loneliness. He was alone! How could he be alone, with a Father? But was.... he was not the child of any Father, he realized. Mother had died, taking with her the Son Father wanted. He was merely the replacement, and as Father had made so clear, an imperfect one.

The Child slammed his fists into one of the other pillars, growling, and threw the doll at Father's feet, charging away to the stairs. Soon he would be off, down the turrets of the tower, through the museums and rooms and worse, and out the doors. He was disgusting, he was fraught, he was imperfect! Imperfect! Such a being as he, how could he be as perfect as simply having a son!

Father watched him go, knowing he was wrong to do it, knowing that the repairs were not worth the words he had given. But he did not need the reminder. He was glad that the... creation was gone. He, too, was lonely, but he would rather be lonely with his rage than live with the reminder of his own failures.

He looked at the box of spiders before him, of the ettercap eggs, and began to think.

A new Promethean could be born....
4 Gozran, 4711 AR
Lepidstadt Hinterlands, County Vieland

The crowds quickly petered out, left in the dust of their carriage, past Sanctuary.

Above and beyond, Vutha and Kraa led, trying to follow the trail of their friend, Sullivani. Jamir gave advise as best he could, but rising in the air, even in the rain, the wind-swept towers of Schloss Caromarc were hard to miss. They must go past Sanctuary, as if going to Hergstag, and then turn right instead of left: the road would follow the Lesser Mourtray River to the castle.

More alarming, there was little sight of Sullivani from above. He did not follow the road, of course, but if he was going to Schloss Caromarc, he had to have another way. Vutha knew. Of course she knew.

He would go through the Dipplemere Swamp, past Morast, to Schloss Caromarc. And he had a headstart. The best way to catch him would be to try and cut him off before he entered the castle. Unfortunately it was a winding, twisting path for them, but the only safe way for the carriage to reach the castle.

They had time on their hands, ahead of the crowds.

They had better use it.
Out of CharacterWelcome to Chapter VI!

1.) I need Kraa/Jamir and Vutha to do a Skill Challenge: DC 18, it can be anything related to finding Sullivani as he passes through the Dipplemere. Survival, Perception, Nature, Geography, whatever works.
2.) Everyone else, consider this a roleplaying opportunity. You can roll a Local, Nobility, or retroactive Diplomacy to Gather Information about Schloss Caromarc from your previous investigations in Lepidstadt.
3.) If you want to interact with the mob before you pass them, feel free to. I'm just moving us along.

Let's get moving!
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Old Jul 30th, 2020, 03:00 AM
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With the rain pouring down in glorious sheets, and with the interior of the carriage still smelling like one of Pike’s awful cigars, the choice is clear: Mara again elects to sit outside, in the passenger’s seat next to Hrani, whom she has volunteered to be the driver. Though discomfited as usual by such overland travel, her annoyance seems to have lessened greatly. The steady rain is one obvious reason for her improved mood, but she is also distracted by the need to watch out for the mob, and for Sulliviani.

The mob itself is little more than a bump on the road. Zealously focused upon their prey, they do not notice the carriage until it is nearly upon them, and by that time the soprano has had a chance to do what she does best.

Like at the courthouse yesterday night, the singer fills the air with powerful, Casting Enthrall once to bypass mobmagical music. But unlike her previous performance, this song has no words, or at least no words that the crowd can understand, though the magus recognizes at least one word in aquan: ‘deathwater’. The melody is dark and eerie, a slithering chromatic tune that seeks to insinuate control, rather than persuasion. Tonight’s goal is not to reason with the crowd, nor to deflect them with emotional pleas: there is no time. No, tonight is about control, turning the mob into helpless thralls, puppets with glazed eyes and dangling mouths who are powerless to offer any resistance.

As the songstress sings her magical song, her normally light blue eyes become as black as the elf’s blade. Mara was nice to them once. She won’t make the same mistake twice. As they weave past and leave the stupefied crowd behind, she ceases, and her eyes gradually return to their usual color. “Do hurry Hrani. I would prefer not to deal with them again.”
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Old Jul 30th, 2020, 02:06 PM
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Jamir Donnelly
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1. The Road North
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.
The rain beat down, and Kraa thrashed his wings, trying to keep up with the much swifter Vutha. The swamps spread out below, and Kraa's eyes picked through the cypress and willows. A section of cattails looked to be disturbed. Shadows shifted beneath a willow's canopy. Thickets swayed in the wind. Sully could have been anywhere. Sully could have been nowhere.

Below, in the carriage, Jamir sensed rather than saw his familiar's frustration. He mirrored that frustration; his words were terse as he conveyed what news he could glean. "Sully is in the swamp," Jamir reports. He offers no tactical analysis, but the tiny wizard assumes that everyone understands what that means: they won't be following Sully, but neither will the crowds of angry Lepidstadters. Both will come by road, if in fact they come at all. It also means a long night: the road to the Schloss is twenty miles or more, and even at a brisk trot, it will be hours before they arrive.


2. Geographic Guesswork
The river flows.
The blackbird must be flying.
With Vutha, Kraa kept searching the swamps, long loops through the low-hanging clouds, a black fleck against dark, violent gray. Flying during the rain presents unusual challenges; the thermals that Kraa could usually soar on were dampened by the rain. Wet feathers frequently forced him to land, but once he shook off the worst of it, he launched himself back into the sky. Kraa was to stay with Vutha, and Kraa would stay with Vutha.

Jamir let his attention wander from the familiar. He imagined the view from above, like laying out a big map. He oriented himself in that vast map, on the winding river road headed north-by-northeast. The wizard's fix on his location was no better than dead reckoning, and his command of his familiar's location was even looser. Still, he urged the raven farther north. Better to be ahead of our quarry than behind him, he thinks. His limited ability to communicate with the bird was frustrating; the indirect pursuit along the edge of the swamp was frustrating; even Pike's cigar and Runa's creaking armor were frustrating. Jamir was struggling to repress his irritability, but his language was laced with it: "The birds are out over the swamp, but cannot locate our esteemed colleague, whose command of the swamp's geography exceeds my own. The rain presents a number of compounding challenges, as well." He scowled, his annoyance then overtly manifest. "Still, I have a good sense of the swamp's terrain. I am fairly certain I know where he will make landfall."


3. Separation Anxiety
When the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.
For Kraa, Jamir's inattention only meant freedom to exercise more autonomy. As Jamir's attention faded, the familiar instead made guesses as to the wizard's desires. In these guesses was also some primitive thought that the raven himself might know better how to stalk prey from the air. His eyes were pits of jet, glittering in their search. He permitted himself to fall behind the eagle, then catch up. He followed the bigger bird's lead but flew much lower to the treetops, sharp eyes probing the holes in the canopy. The eagle hunts best from altitude, but the raven sticks closer to the earth.

The wizard's attention snapped back to the bird as Kraa flew out of the empathic bond's range. From then, he trusted that the wily bird would find his way to the Schloss, hopefully with the Beast in tow. It was rare for Kraa to be so far away, though, and Jamir felt the absence like a sudden silence in his mind. It felt lonely in a way that the wizard never expected, but always remembered as soon as the link is gone.

Jamir frowned, his eyes locked on the glowing tip of Pike's cigar, but his mind elsewhere. His thoughts circled around the raven, and how easy it was to take the bird for granted. Always, Kraa obeyed without complaint, treating Jamir's every bidding as an imperative. Even a task so trivial as "fetch me that inkpot" would provoke only obedience. Well, obedience with a dash of sass. But obedience nonetheless.

Still, obedience is only part of the complex bond he shares with the raven. In times of turmoil, the bird's calm is often a touchstone, a nudge toward de-escalation. Even then, Jamir found himself missing the note of hopeful determination that was Kraa's most recent emotional state. Jamir was sure that the bird also relied on the wizard for emotional support, but he could not think of any recent examples.

Deep inside Jamir, a seed of doubt sprouted. He was better than the Count, was he not? The Count abandoned his creation, drove Sully off. That was far worse than simple thoughtlessness. But the thoughtlessness was not nothing, and measuring oneself against the Count does not set the bar very high. Jamir reflected on Kraa's current mission: a dangerous flight across a vast swamp, pursuing an eagle in search of her friend. Kraa was intrepid and leapt to the task, but Jamir had to ask himself: was that the sort of thing Kraa would agree to do, if he were to ask? Was it responsible of Jamir to even ask?

In the back of his head, Jamir knows that Kraa was ultimately replaceable. But not truly replaceable: his quirky personality as unique. No other familiar will bring Kraa's mix of charm, wit, and snark. It occurs to Jamir that perhaps he has been reckless with the power he holds over his familiar. And that perhaps he has been reckless with the bird's life. Jamir felt that something had shifted in his relationship with his familiar, that he had been massively underappreciating the bird for many years.

Perhaps the occasional absence was good for a relationship.

poem fragments from "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird" by Wallace Stevens


 
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Last edited by phinar; Aug 8th, 2020 at 12:19 PM.
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Old Aug 4th, 2020, 02:06 PM
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Hrani sits on the front of the carriage, where Mara had volunteered him to be as the driver. Truth be told, it probably made the most sense. Given the weather of his home, even if they didn't see rain often, the elf is used to being cold and wet, and probably better able to tolerate these conditions than anyone else. Aside from Mara herself, of course, who seems, if anything, happy about the downpour.

So the magus does not mind being out in the weather, nor does he mind sitting next to Mara in the least, but he is not particularly happy to be responsible for controlling the carriage. It requires his focus, or at least much of it, and Hrani does not like being able to use all of his attention to take in his surroundings. He becomes particularly tense when they pass the mob, which has swelled to impressive numbers even by the previous evening's standards. The insolent fools. 'Perhaps it is better that my hands are occupied with the reigns, lest I show them what I really think of their behavior.'

In the end, it is not the magus who engages the rabble, but his songstress companion sitting next to him. When she opens her mouth, what comes out is beautiful, though in a very different way than the words coming from Mara's mouth usually are. From their lessons, Hrani understands a handful of the words, though it is 'deathwater' that sticks out. His tutor had explained many different forms of water to him, several of them beyond his comprehension. 'Deathwater', the elf had thought he sort of understood, even if not fully. That notion is quickly confirmed when he sees the reaction of those caught in the effect of Mara's song: Eyes glaze over, tension leaves their muscles, and they look like rag dolls more than a threat. Deathwater.

"We shall go as fast as we can." Hrani confirms the songstress request. "And it is to your credit that you do not wish to deal with them again. For I would say that encounter made it pretty clear who would come out ahead if you did." The elf pays her a compliment, neither he nor Orenmir commenting on the jet black of her eyes, though both making note of it. "Don't worry, I do not see how they could catch us, unless there is another group ahead of us." With that, the elf pulls his eyes away from Mara's and returns them to the treacherous road ahead.
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Old Aug 4th, 2020, 07:37 PM
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VuthaAs Vutha flew through the downpour she felt somehow freed of something she hadn’t even realized was holding her back before. It wasn’t merely the fact that they were leaving the city and heading back out into the world she was more comfortable with. Maybe in finding a new tribe she had been able to tap into an inner strength she did not know that she had.

The result of this was that she was flying much faster than she had ever imagined possible before. Though the rain made it difficult to fly, she was still exhilarated by the experience. And then she realized that Kraa was having difficulty keeping up with her. This brought her a strange comfort for a moment thinking of that pesky halfling peering through its eyes, but eventually she circled back around to keep pace with the smaller bird. She flied around the familiar in loops, scanning the ground below her all the while for any signs of their friend’s passage. But the truth of it was she was too absorbed with her own self flying through the air as she was to be of much good to the actual search.

 
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Old Aug 5th, 2020, 07:51 AM
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Runahildr Valkadottir

Never before had Runa felt apprehension about leaving a city behind her. Not because she dreaded heading out, nor feared their destination, but rather because she felt wary about placing *this* particular city behind her - were it could pounce upon the party and drag it down to whatever depths it had emerged from.

As it was, the paladin could not help but fight an instinctual urge to put her spurs to her horse's flanks in an effort to put more distance between herself and Lepidstadt - such was the overpowering sense of malice and resentment flowing from streets of the city. It was unsettling.

"We won the battle," she muttered to herself as she directed Rook to fall in behind the carriage. "But we might have lost the war." She did not envy her brethren at the Cathedral of Incandescent Valor. They would have a struggle on their hand in the next coming weeks to rein in a populace that was straying as much from the word of the Inheritor as the crowds back in Lepidstadt were. And the Whispering Way would without a doubt do their best to pour more oil on that particular fire.

That wasn't the only thing on Runa's mind as she rode along, lost in thought, behind the carriage. Again and again her thoughts returned to Kendra and the last encounter they had had. And again and again she chastised herself for not knowing what to say and allowing Kendra to leave with Adivion. In her head she had urged Kendra to turn down Adivion's offer and instead stay with the group - or go somewhere else, anywhere else provided it was not alognside the smarmy charlatan, who no doubt sought Kendra's companionship for more than har charming smile. But her mouth had stayed closed and her emotions locked away - just as she had taught herself back in the Order. And now she was here riding towards the unknown with Kendra heading a different direction, and only the Inheritor knew when - or if - they would ever meet again.

Of course they where not completely out of touch. The scroll case in Runa's pack allowed her to write to Kendra whenever she felt like it. To the paladin that scroll case felt like it weighed more than all the pieces of her armour put together.

Runa sighed and nudged her horse to pick up pace as the carriage rattled ahead. Those that championed the Inheritor's cause never lacked for things to, and for now there was work to be done. At Schloss Caromarc and then beyond.



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Old Aug 5th, 2020, 09:04 AM
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Schloss Caromac

The name itself had stirred something within Pike, a name he had certainly heard before. Maybe from a book, perhaps from a tavern tale or even, possibly, from Professor Lorrimor himself?
He wasn't sure, but he knew it from somewhere.

Sitting inside the carriage with a small cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth, a trail of smoke easing its way out the window as he busied himself with cleaning his crossbow, checking the string, making sure the clasp held. Anything to take his mind off the journey towards Schloss Caromac. The singing from outside sent shivers down his spine, she was doing it again, casting her charm on someone ahead. The mob, most likely. Within seconds he had the crossbow loaded and aimed out the open window, casually glancing at the crowd as they sped past them. He withdrew, but didn't unload his weapon until after they were well past the mob.

The journey was made in silence, until broken by the words of Jamir. Pike gave him a nod "Good work, Master Jamir." was all he said, as he settled back and drew his hat over his eyes "Very good."


 
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Old Aug 9th, 2020, 12:50 PM
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A quiet trip is not an uneventful one.

As Jamir helps to navigate with his connection to his familiar and with Vutha's know-how of the Dipplemere, those in the carriage are subject to the darkness of their situation: the failure of civilization over savagery, so to speak. What could overcome it, if not logic, if not emotion, if not ethics? Was this the nature of mortality? Spirits are dampened, but they still have a job to do: a friend to save.
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Mara enthralls the crowd as they passed, causing many to stop, a helpful move to delay them but how effective would it be in the long run?

Within the carriage, they take the eastern road towards the castle, which disappears behind the trees of the Dipplemere. As they approach, then pass Morast, passing the Rest Lands, Torsten Pike recalls what he found there: the letter. But he cannot afford to be distracted, even with the knowledge of the Manticore there, what might have become of her. Distractions are a mote in the eye of failure: any distraction that can save their lives will be worth not making. The carriage continues, and soon, the castle appears once more. A tall, towering thing, its spires climbing well into the mountains behind it as the Lesser Mourtray River becomes something more like a lake, lights bear down only from the tallest of the towers. A keen eye might spy that the Humans within the group, those without darkvision, will need a torch.

Kraa and Vutha do, too.

As Vutha struggles to keep up with the winds and the revelry of this form, Kraa manages to spy Sullivani moving quickly below, almost to Schloss Caromarc. The information relayed back to Jamir, it becomes quite clear: they will not reach Schloss Caromarc before Sullivani. In fact, neither can Vutha or Kraa, as he runs up the hill, onto the road, and over the drawbridge, where torches ran out long ago. Within, though, are lights: and shapes, Vutha and Jamir spy.

Roading the bend, they come closer, closer, ever closer to the castle, and as they do, the carriage arrives and meets with Kraa and Vutha. Too late, though: Sullivani not only went into the castle, he came back out and reentered the swamps, mumblings and whimpering.

As they exit, Pike's keen ear can hear Sullivani. They can go after him, if they wish. In fact, they must, to save his life.

Within, the shapes are indistinct, but there. There comes a growling, not unlike a dog, but also not unlike a gurgle.

Schloss Caromarc is inhabited? or has the Count chosen guards of a less savory nature?
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Old Aug 10th, 2020, 06:56 PM
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Mara looks back and forth between Vutha and Kraa, confused by the news that Sulliviani went into the castle, then came right back out. “But … why in the ocean would Sulliviani do such a thing? Was not the purpose of this whole journey to see his father again?” Though still perplexed, once she learns that the golem is still nearby she quickly puts aside her doubts, ignoring the castle’s growling gurgles as she acts. Half closing her eyes in concentration, she inhales deeply, then unleashes her voice in a formidable display of operatic training powered by raw talent.

“SUL-LI-VI-A-NI!”

Despite the force of her cry, her naturally liquid voice remains smooth and melodic, like a musical tsunami that resonates beautifully through the moist marsh air. The soprano repeats the call, and then again, but modulates it each time, like variations on a theme, before gliding effortlessly into a classical aria, aptly chosen as one where the performer
Dice Perform (sing):
1d20+15 (13)+15 Total = 28
sings for her friend to return. Only the names need to be changed in this opera. Throughout it all Mara remains seated on the carriage: rather than chasing after their quarry, she tries to lure him in with a siren’s call.
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Old Aug 10th, 2020, 10:26 PM
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Like a screech in the night, the song rends eardrums. Unlike a screech, the song is entirely pleasant.

There is a certain grandeur to being able to know one's environment and use it to one's advantage. A good singer, a diva worth the dime, knows how to throw her voice into the right nooks and crannies in any opera hall; a good soprano knows how to fill a theater for a death scene. A good falsetto knows how his voice will carry in a city square; a good baritone is able to make the deaf feel the power of his voice in the middle of a fiery confession.

Mara has spent years studying the power of sound.

Whether in the depths of Lake Encarthan or the concert halls of Caliphas, Mara knows the power of her own voice, has the ability to emote in such a way to drive fear from the creatures of the Dipplemere and soothe the sorrows of one Sullivani. Though he may have gotten far with his quick steps, he may not have gotten far.

Still, for a moment, as the voice rings clear, echoing off of the stone walls of Schloss Caromarc, decayed and neglected, the only sound is a single brick falling from a parapet. Then a boom, a heavy boom, from the Swamp. Then a crunch, a stick breaking: and soon, the giant of white and red and clothes and hair appears. Sullivani has arrived, weeping.

"Would an angel sing so, the heavens would catch afire, and all of the earth with it. Has my friend found me? Have my friends come to see Sullivani at his home so soon?" Charging up the hill, fear fills their hearts: is he going to crush Mara? But he stops, soon, and throws his massive humanoid arm around her, weeping at her feet, while the other, crab/tentacle arm does no such thing, holding him up. Eventually he looks up, his white eyes staring at her.

"Hello. I have missed you. And my Father's new gatekeeper has sent me away. He says Father is not to have any guests until the experiment is over."

The growling, more a gurgle, from across the drawbridge has become a whimper, fearful from the song of Mara.
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Old Aug 12th, 2020, 08:23 AM
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Jamir Donnelly
Male Halfling Wizard
 


Lightning tore open the night and for a split second, everything was starkly clear. White washed the face of the castle, and shadows as black as pitch hung beneath its eaves. Then the darkness fell again and Jamir's eyes were dazzled, afterimages floating across his vision. Still, he squinted through the night, trying to see whatever it was that was making that gurgling noise. Whatever it was, it made the halfling's skin crawl. His imagination could produce nothing that he wanted to meet.

But at the same time, through what dark magics had the Count awakened the Beast? What other fascinating creations might inhabit this castle? Could the secrets of such manufacture be hidden behind its decrepit walls? And there is an experiment going on right now!

Distant thunder broke, a timpani rumble beneath the soprano's soaring voice. Jamir aches for his oboe, though he knows he cannot perform to Mara's level. It's been over a week now since he found the time to practice, and cutting the fussy reeds was more work than he was willing to put in. He only brought out the oboe a few times since arriving in Lepidstadt. All of which made his craving for the instrument more notable. The beauty of Mara's ethereal voice stretching out to conquer the storm—it was really more than a soul could bear.

When Sulliviani emerged from the swamp, enchanted by Mara's voice, Jamir understood completely. He sat up straight, looking out the carriage window at their strange friend as he explained to Mara what had happened. Jamir frowned in thought. If not home, then where can Sully go? The whole Lepidstadt area seemed like a poor choice without the walls of a castle to defend him.

So do they go see what's going on themselves? Or leave the Count to his own affairs? Jamir watched Sully throughout, still fascinated by the creature's construction. One day I will know these secrets, he thinks. And possibly very soon.

"We should see what's going on," Jamir called through the window of the coach. He pulled up the hood on his cloak as he spoke. "If Sully can't stay here, we need to find him a new place. But let's see if the Count will let a group of upright citizens impose upon his hospitality."

He sat back then slid off the carriage seat, landing with a slight thump. He reached up and worked the door handle. He found that he was nervous; the gurgling sound within the castle sounded more like a fight than a conversation. But Jamir was ready for a fight, too, if it came to it.

He reached out through the emotional bond with Kraa, feeling sympathy for the bird's wet discomfort. He was perched atop the carriage, where luggage would be strapped down.

It was a relief to have Kraa back, to have the raven's alert eyes watching. To have the emotional touchstone. As Jamir stepped out into the rain, he beckoned Kraa down with an emotional tug.

Kraa obliged, a flurry of wet feathers swooping down and landing on Jamir's shoulder. Jamir sets off toward the door of the castle, assuming that the others would swiftly overtake him.
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  #12  
Old Aug 14th, 2020, 10:49 AM
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ekidnu ekidnu is offline
Nargle
 
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Mara shudders as the Beast drapes his monstrous, heavy arm around her slender shoulders. With an effort, she tries to avoid recoiling too much and forces an artificially bright smile. “We have missed you as well, of course.” The soprano draws upon her most soothing voice as she carefully pats the creature’s arm, both to console the Beast and to gently nudge the uncomfortable burden away from her shoulders. Perhaps more the latter than the former.

“We are ever so glad to have finally found you. There is a large mob on its way—they overheard you in the courtroom, saying that you would come here to Schloss Caromarc—and they mean you harm. We came as quickly as we could to warn you, and to help protect you.” The singer frowns as she looks up at the forbidding outline of the decaying castle. “This should provide safe sanctuary,” she exchanges a concerned glance with Hrani and Pike, wondering if this neglected place could offer the same protection as when it was properly maintained, “for surely the rabble cannot breach the defenses of a castle, no matter how hard they try? I am not certain that we can afford to wait for very long, however.” Her eyes search anxiously along the road. “The mob may arrive at any moment. I believe Jamir is correct—experiment or not, surely your father will not object to us waiting quietly in the antechamber? And if we could raise the drawbridge, the mob might never even know that you were inside!”

The songstress smiles happily at the thought. “Do be a dear and accompany Jamir.” she asks Sulliviani while gently brushing off the last of his arm. For her part, Mara takes her sweet time, carefully smoothing out every wrinkle in her dress before finally holding out her hand expectantly, waiting for someone to help her down from the carriage and escort her across the drawbridge.
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  #13  
Old Aug 14th, 2020, 09:25 PM
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Cedric Cedric is offline
Trial by stone!
 
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Pike stepped out of the carriage, his hat on his head, a cigar in his mouth and a loaded crossbow in his hands. Mara had outdone herself, again, by the gods she was a talented one. Surely they would tell stories about the power of her voice one day.
But for now, they had a gritty work ahead of them. Of that the detective from Druma was certain.

"You are a kind soul, my friend. Never forget that." he said through clenched teeth as he put a reassuring hand on the beasts shoulder "We'll deal with this gatekeeper, for after all this is your home. No one can take that away from you." but his father could, of course. It would take some persuasion to get the old count to realize that he was responsible for his creations well being and Pike, for one, was willing to push hard on that point.

He double checked his weapon, nodded at Mara, then towards Jamir "Master Jamir, shall we let Runa and Hrani lead the way?" he wasn't sure what awaited them at Schloss Caromac, but he knew it wasn't anything pleasant. But given the present company he felt he had little to fear from this place.

Nethys watch over me, let's hope I'm not wrong.
  #14  
Old Aug 16th, 2020, 10:13 PM
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VuthaWhen she sees Sullivani, Vutha flies to perch herself on his shoulder. She squawks unintelligibly but clearly from the situation what appears to be affectionately. She rubs her aquiline body against his massive head and fusses with his hair for a minute. It is clear she has no plans of moving from his shoulder any time within the next century or so.
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  #15  
Old Aug 17th, 2020, 08:26 AM
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Thorsten Thorsten is offline
Confused and confounded
 
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Runahildr Valkadottir

Runa dismounted behind the carriage and pulled her polearm down to rest against the ground as she looked around at the surroundings outside Schloss Caromarc. The noises and the feeling that something - not someone - was watching them put her on edge and she kept a tight grip on her weapon.

As Sully burst forward and into Mara's waiting arms, Runa kept her focus on the surroundings, leaving the actual dealing of the mishapen poet to others. The paladin was still vehemently insistent that justice was for all - no matter what their origin be - and she would champion Sully's cause in the face of injustice he was facing, but apart from that she preferred not to socialize with him. While she had read some poetry, it had been mandatory assignments handed to her by Sister Clothilde back at the convent - like the bombastic stuff written by the man who Sully was now named after. But it had not been something she had particularly enjoyed. Poetry in general just didn't mesh with Runa's mindset - it didn't speak to her, nor move her one way or another. And Sully seemed to *breathe* poetry - if he even did breathe in the first place? That meant it was something of a struggle to keep a dialogue going, and since she had other priorities, especially when they where in foreign and potentially hostile territory, she left the talking to others.

Runa's ears still perked up at the mentioning of ongoing experiments. What was going on inside the castle? Was whoever created Sully trying to do more? Something else? And why?

No matter. It seemed they where about to find out. She nodded to Pike, took Rook by the reins, hefted her weapon in the other hand and started to walk forward towards the castle.

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